When The Mountain Goats Cry
by Green Capsule
Summary: Willard H. Wright has retired from the SSVD and now lives a peaceful life with Lion, learning badminton. However, his reunion with his former friends from Beatrice's gameboard quickly takes a turn for the mysterious.
1. Chapter 1

[Red Text = Bold, Blue Text = Underlined, Gold Text = Bold+Underline. This story was deleted from my original account for some reason I cannot even begin to guess, so I'm going to be reposting it here. Since I'm reposting it, I decided to go all out and rewrite a few parts as well.

I tried to keep Lion's gender hidden for obvious reasons.]

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><p>"Ah yes," said the woman behind the curtains. "Welcome, welcome. I take it from your bored look that you have finished playing with Beatrice's gameboard, didn't you? But you are still not satisfied. You ripped out her guts, you theorized and you destroyed everything, but that's still not enough for you, is it?"<p>

The theatregoing witches cheered loudly, nodding. It seemed as though they were all in agreement regarding that issue.

The woman sighed heavily, indicating he wasn't particularly happy with that issue. But nonetheless, it had to be addressed. People tore apart Beatrice's gameboard because they wanted a pure mystery even if they had to kill her to obtain it. Well, she couldn't just ignore that desire, could she? Such a pure, cruel desire needed to be rewarded with the right kind of cruelty.

"I'll tell you what, I'll give you a brand new gameboard. I'll even go ahead and say it, **this gameboard is a mystery. It is completely solvable by human beings,"** she said in red. The crowd looked up, more interested than ever. A mystery was just what they were hoping for.

Though the woman remained covered by the curtains, they were transparent enough for the threatregoing witches to see her finger being raised high up in the air, to notify them she meant to add something else.

"Yes, that's what you want, isn't it? A pure mystery. But see," she said, her voice growing lower and an underlying cruelty becoming noticeable, "you only think you want it."

The witches didn't respond. They didn't know what the woman meant, but something about her tone told them that they were not meant to respond.

"You complain that Beatrice's mystery wasn't fair, it relied on cheating, on tricks that no one could have ever noticed, that she didn't fight you one on one...don't you see? She was being kind to you when she did that." The woman laughed loudly. "Because when the mystery isn't fair, you can blame your incompetence on the lack of information. You can say you lost the fight because you were a boxer fighting someone out of your weight class. But in a pure mystery, you got no excuses, no friends, no hope."

The woman laughed madly once more. She seemed to be enjoying her cold, harsh words she leashed out at them. "In a pure mystery, if you lose, you got no one else to blame but yourself! Beatrice was being kind by giving you an excuse to run away! I will not accept forfeits. You are not allowed to blame magic. **The culprit in this gameboard is bound by human reality. This means that no magic was involved in the game!"**

The woman stopped for a moment, almost as if to consider whether or not to say this next insult, but finally opened her mouth and said, "**If you fail to solve the mystery, it will be your fault and nobody else's." **

She was taunting them. The threatregoing witches knew that. Yet, they couldn't resist. They thought they could handle the mystery. So they reached out for it, ready to attack this new gameboard.

"Oh, you want to know what the gameboard is about? I'll tell you. It revolves around a certain man, one from a dimension above the island of Rokkenjima. Of course, despite this man's heavenly status, this tale will feature no magic once the crime starts—after all, this is a mystery. This man is one you are very well acquainted with. The mysterious being that entered the gameboard against his will and defeated Beatrice's illusions without much effort.

"The man who elucidated the mystery and brought to a close Beatrice's gameboard, curiously enough, was in no way officially connected to the game; and in all the published accounts of the murder his name was not once mentioned. And yet, had it not been for him and his novel methods of criminal deduction, perhaps the truth behind Beatrice's games would never have been revealed. Ushiromiya Battler proceeded dogmatically with the evidential appearances of the crime during the first four games, whereas the operations of the criminal were being conducted on a plane quite beyond the comprehension of the ordinary investigator. Of course, though Battler eventually understood Beatrice's heart, this took him five entire games despite being previously acquainted with her. This man who, of sedulous and disheartening analysis, eventually ferreted out the source of the horror in a single game, is the one this gameboard shall focus on. His name is something you are well aware of—Willard H. Wright."

The woman cackled loudly, finally revealing her true nature—a terrifying witch.

"Let the games begin—or how do we say it in the mystery genre? Oh yes, the game is afoot."

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><p>The brown haired man screamed, his arm swinging in a perfect sideways motion and just barely hitting his target. He twisted his knees and quickly landed using his arms to regain his equilibrium. Glancing over at the other side, his eyes followed the plastic bullet clumsily returned towards him, his legs jumped over it, and his shoulder's firm, quick motion smashed the object just to the left of his opponent's legs.<p>

"You are good," said the young, golden haired aristocrat.

"I had a good teacher," the man in front of him responded.

The young aristocrat went by the name of Lion. Acting disinterested was a quality a young heir should always have in mind, as losing one's cool was not approved of by potential business partners. However, the curious combination of being drowned in sweat and being on the losing side of the scoreboard left little doubt that Lion must have been quite angrier, in contrast to the smile the young heir gave to the young man by the name of Willard H. Wright.

"I still don't understand how you learned the game so fast." It wasn't a complaint, but it wasn't an act of praise either. Lion seemed legitimately puzzled by his friend's incredible talent.

A sword displaying a black, shining blade materialized in his friend's hand, taking the place of his racquet. Lion's eyebrows were raised, a too frequent habit since coming to live with Will. The meta-world was still as mystifying as it was the first time Lion saw it.

"Badminton is quite similar to mysteries," Will said, cutting the air, "the moment you understand your opponent's heart, the moment you understand how your opponent thinks, that's when you win."

"That's surprisingly cold for you, does that mean you only understand people's hearts so that your job is easier?"

"Not entirely."

Lion looked puzzled. Will wasn't a man who gave information out of his own free will, that was a fact Will made everyone around him painfully aware of. The first days of living with him were terribly inconvenient, not knowing when breakfast would be ready, or where the newspaper was. It was quite obvious, even to someone who wasn't a detective, that a man who didn't bother to keep any pretence of punctuality or organization wouldn't talk much about himself. His terribly uncooperative personality, combined with his reticence made understanding him quite the impossible task.

This impossibility was annoying, as Lion often wondered why Will had risked his life to fight off Bernkastel when it was clear there was no possibility of victory. The only information grasped after a long search came not from Will himself, but from Dlanor, who had come to visit them briefly to ask for advice about a case, something she was quite happy about as she had been forced to deal with paperwork for so long.

Lion was told that Will used to be known as Wizard-Hunting Wright, of the twenty wedges; the strongest inquisitor to ever live, he killed witch after witch without a second thought. His might was such that legend said he once killed a thousand witches in a single night, something that became popular knowledge quickly, as his reticence made him quite the popular subject among inquisitors to be, especially girls. Dlanor emphasized though, that the one time she did ask him about it, he fervently denied having killed a thousand witches in a single night.

"No, perhaps," Dlanor hesitated, "fervently denied might not be the best way to describe IT. He denied it...BITTERLY."

"Bitterly?" Lion moved closer to Dlanor, anxious for more information. "What do you mean?"

"I don't KNOW. Wright doesn't speak much about HIMSELF. I don't know much about what happened to him that made him change his WAYS."

"Aren't there files about the cases he worked on?"

"A FEW. But I did not bring them with ME."

"Could you please bring them the next time you come to visit us?"

"ABSOLUTELY."

Dlanor smiled, and the conversation moved on to another subject. Lion had no desire to let others know of just how important understanding Will's heart was. It was painful to live with someone who understood the inner workings of your soul so well that you felt you had no secrets anymore, while not knowing a thing about him. No, more than painful, it was _annoying. _ Lion didn't like to lose, and this felt like losing. Lion had no idea what kind of contest this was supposed to be, but if it was one, it obviously wasn't a very competitive one.

Wasn't Will the one who said they were friends, back during Bernkastel's game? He should open up more! But again, Lion was the one who denied their friendship. Even today, Lion would still want to deny that friendship. But for completely different reasons. If a friendship between them was to be acknowledged, then something else would have to be denied, and Lion wasn't ready to do that.

"It's raining."

"Huh?"

"It's raining, let's get inside."

"S-sure!"

After being dragged back to reality, Lion ran back to the mansion alongside Will, hands on chest due to the possibility of transparent clothing due to the rain. That action was, however, useless. In all three months they had been living together for, Will had never once attempted to do anything that would cause him to find out Lion's gender. While Lion was most grateful for that, it was also quite annoying. While one normally expects a request of such a nature to be respected, one also expects a person to, in a natural act of curiosity to a growing fondness to his partner, try to understand his friend. Not so with Will. He never spoke about his past, and never pried into Lion's either. He did sometimes make long lectures about the present, but he never spoke about anything regarding the past. He did like to dabble on long speeches about art and psychology, but never without a reason.

"Really," said Lion to no one, staring at the ceiling, "you would think at one point he would _have _to get bored and wonder..."

Will's one passion (if a purely intellectual enthusiasm may be called a passion) was art—not art in its narrow, personal aspects, but in its broader, more universal significance. His ever growing interest in mysteries was partially caused by this, as to him there was little difference between a Van Dine and a Van Gogh. Art was not only his dominating interest but his chief diversion. He was the definite authority on Van Dine; he knew of Knox and Carr; and once Lion heard him give an impromptu speech to a few guests on Chandler and hard-boiled fiction, which, had it been transcribed, would have made a most delightful and instructive essay on the mystery genre.

He, as Lion quickly noticed, was quite prone to receiving guests. Perhaps retirement bored him, or perhaps people merely felt attracted to his mysterious, intellectual nature. The young aristocrat met many of Will's acquaintances during those brief months, one more mysterious and unique than the other. Lion, seeing that Will had accidentally scheduled three people in one day, quickly fixed his schedule by declaring that their visits had turned into one big social gathering, much to Will's chagrin.

"Is that really necessary? It sounds troublesome."

"It is. You don't want be rude to your friends and make them think you forgot when they were coming to visit you."

"Actually, you don't want me to be rude. I'm quite fine with doing that, thanks."

"Don't be a smartass," Lion said, fingers quickly pinching Will, making the remark quite poetical.

"Well, we can't have a social gathering with only three people coming. We might as well invite a few others. That way if we are lucky maybe they'll talk to each other and I won't have to say much."

"That's a good idea," approved Lion, "how about Dlanor? She's a nice person."

"Sounds good to me. Think she grew up at all since we saw her?"

Lion raised an eyebrow. "Do you have to bring that up every time you see her?"

Will seemed almost offended, but Lion knew it to be sarcasm when he said, "Absolutely! What kind of detective would I be if I didn't note that kind of thing?"

"Mr. Battler and Ms. Beatrice should come as well."

"Bernkastel and the detective would be nice."

Lion's eyes went from surprised to troubled to tired, knowing full well that asking for an explanation would lead only to wondering if Will had a screw missing from his head. But an archer must shoot his arrow, and an Ushiromiya must ask questions.

"I understand why you would want a detective to come, but why do you want to invite the unpleasant woman who tried to kill us _twice?_"

"She likes cats," he answered, casually petting Diana.

Lion decided not to ask for a clarification, not for the fear of not having an adequate argument against it, but for the fear that the knowledge of how Will's brain operated would be too heavy of a burden to carry. After his retirement, he had gotten more playful, flippant even. Lion had learned to trust him, but it was quite worrying sometimes.

"Very well," Lion consented, "she likes cats. You can invite her."

Will lifted Diana off his lap, and put her in front of his face, making her directly face Lion. His voice was completely monotone, contrasting his silly action.

"Diana says thanks."

"Tell Diana her owner is an idiot—OW!"

Diana scratched Lion's face when her master's honour was insulted, causing Lion's cheek to bleed very slightly. Lion stared dumbfounded at the violent, possessive cat, as Will smiled and thanked his cat for the loyalty.

"She's just jealous I spend so much time with you."

"Aren't cats supposed to be attached to their house instead of their masters?"

"Diana is different."

"I can see that," mumbled Lion. "But why is she insane?"

"It happens to everybody who lives with me for long enough. You'll see it for yourself soon."

Before Lion could answer, Will leaned closer, putting his hand over Lion's cheek, red due to both blood and embarrassment.

"The cut isn't that bad, but let me wash it."

"You don't have to," Lion answered, tone contradicting content.

"Don't complain."

Lion sighed. It was useless arguing with him. Little did the Ushiromiya know, just how right that sentence would prove to be in the first Wright conference, once all guests arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Red Text = Bold, Blue Text = Underlined, Gold Text = Bold+Underline. ]**

**Note: This chapter is mostly the same as the old one, save for a few paragraphs rewritten to sound more natural. But starting from next chapter, we'll be seeing a lot of rewritten work.**

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><p>"You really ought to hire a maid," Lion complained. "I won't clean the guest's rooms next time, no matter how much you beg."<p>

"I don't recall begging," Will remarked as he glanced outside the window. "In fact, all I remember is you screaming at me and then saying you would clean everything since I was hopeless."

Lion walked up to Will, the unusually loud sound coming from said footsteps indicating a certain amount of anger. Then, from behind the couch, Lion grabbed Will's neck much like a professional wrestler would. Though the hold was admirably flawless, no amount of force applied seemed to even be enough for Will to drop his tea. He impassively drank his tea, showing a complete lack of regard for Lion's efforts at causing him pain. There was only one thing Lion could do to bother him, and that course of action was blocked by the sofa.

"Besides, there is, y'know, a reason I cant' hire one," Will said cheerfully, a hint of an English accent showing, "Van Dine wouldn't allow for it."

This annoyed Lion, because he knew the English accent was there just to bother him. Van Dine himself was American.

"Van Dine doesn't forbid you to hire a maid. It just says that the culprit can't be a maid," Lion retorted, loosening the firm grip on Will's neck, but arms still near his neck. It almost looked like a hug.

Will nodded in agreement.

"Which means that when the inevitable crime happens, our dear maid couldn't be the culprit. As such, she would just make the investigation more complicated."

"Why are you so sure that there will be a crime?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Will shook his head sadly. Lion couldn't tell whether his gesture was made in jest or if he really meant it. "It is my finality, my destiny, my purpose and my fate! Most interesting you would think otherwise," Will's accent again shone through, his condolence seemingly linked with his English education.

"How would that make sense? Why does a crime need to happen?"

"It just does. Don't think too hard about it, you'll get a headache."

Lion's eyes met Will's, and they carried a silent conversation that would have taken hours if done with words in a matter of seconds. What should Lion do with Will? His dreamed retirement had come, and he was now bored. That wasn't something Lion really cared about, but Will being bored made him absolutely unbearable to live with. Will's eyes answered that by pointing out how it was in his nature to act like that, and deep inside, Lion wasn't bothered by that. Lion's eyes proceeded to close, unsatisfied with the conversation's theme.

"Moreover, I would have to spend time exonerating her, perhaps calming her and assuring there was nothing to fear," Will said flippantly. "And that sounds like a bad mystery to me. A mystery needs heart, but it also needs a body and soul. Each player needs to have his own part on the play, or else he shouldn't exist."

"What if the maid helped the investigation? Wouldn't that make her a major player?" asked Lion, with a playful tone. There was no harm in playing along with Will's joke. If it was a joke, that is.

"I don't think women are capable of thinking," said Will calmly.

Lion thought about reaction to this obviously sexist statement, just when it became clear that this was Will's intention. Will wasn't sexist, he just wanted to test Lion, to see how Lion would react. After all, depending on how Lion answered this, the answer to "Woman or man?" should become clear extremely easily.

"What do you think, Lion? Do you agree that women are emotional creatures that men need to comfort?"

That smirk! That smirk proved it. Will really meant to get a reaction out of Lion. Part of the Ushiromiya felt relieved Will finally took an interest on that matter, but another part of Lion felt offended Will only felt curious about it once he had nothing else to do.

"I won't answer it."

"Are you fine with that?"

"I could be a man so mad at your sexist statement that I decided not to dignify it with an answer, or a woman so mad at your sexist statement that I decided not to dignify it with an answer. There is no way for you to know."

"Oh, but there is." Will jumped out of the couch in one single motion, his hands in his pockets, and walked up to Lion, their faces separated by less than one centimetre.

"No such a thing as a woman who is offended by my statement and doesn't answer it. If she doesn't answer it, she is the kind of woman who has a few problems with her self confidence and refuses to answer not because she disagrees with it, but because she is afraid the sexist man just might convince her of being right."

"Been reading psychology books, eh?" Lion answered without missing a beat. "Sorry, but you can't be sure of that just by a few random guesses."

"Well, I suppose I can't." He scratched the back of his head. "Just figured it was worth a shot.

Will then broke the tension by laughing, and backing away.

"Don't worry. I am not going to find out anything you don't want me to. I just wanted to check to see if you felt like telling me this time. Well, don't worry. I won't ask again."

A loud gong announced at least one of the guests had arrived. Will smirked, and went to get the door. Lion smiled as well, pretending to be happy Will wouldn't look for the answer anymore. But that was a lie. Why, Lion wanted Will to find out, in a way. Of course, Lion also didn't want Will to find out.

What _did _Lion want? The feeling of being chased after and never being caught? Lion's feelings were confusing. Perhaps luckily, among the first two guests to arrive, one of them was the only person in the world that could be of some help in that complicated matter.

"Hihihi, your house is bigger than Rokkenjima. This is amazing!"

"Well, you know how it goes, detective solves one case for an important person, becomes rich and famous, " said Will, somewhat sarcastically. "But comparing a mountain to an island isn't the way to go."

"Why not? They are both great!" said Battler, laughing. His words didn't quite make sense, but he spoke rapidly, as if he couldn't contain his excitement.

"It's funny how you are full of energy now, but you kept screaming faaaaaaaaaaallllllll when we were being brought to the top of the mountain."

"B-beato, no need to tell them that!"

Battler took off his cape, covered in snow and blood, and Will helped him place it at the coat hanger. The years of marriage having no effect in the ageless meta world, Battler's immaturity shone through, as he rushed to greet Lion while Will was left helping Beatrice to take off her coat, a duty usually reserved for her husband.

"Things like this really make me realize it," said Beatrice, sighing heavily while Will did an overly exaggerate bow to her, "Lion really is my one in a million shot at happiness."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Battler laughed.

"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Lion asked, blushing slightly. If Beatrice knew what living with Will was like, there was no way she would think that.

Beatrice assured Lion there was nothing to worry and sat in a sofa with Battler, Lion and Will sitting in a sofa directly across them, the table between the two containing tea for all four of them.

"How was the trip?" Lion asked.

"Must have been tough to come here while goats tried to obtain answers from you." Will sighed.

"How did you know that?" asked Beatrice, mildly surprised at that statement. It was true. However, how could he know that?

"The quest for enlightenment upon which we are now embarked," said Will, "may prove a bit tedious. But you must exert your willpower and bear with me. I merely noticed the blood on both your coats, and deduced that there must still be goats who want to understand your golden land."

"That's right. It has been a bit of a pain, but Beato and I can handle them without problem."

"I'm still surprised that someone other than Battler could understand it. I heard the rumours before, but I was still surprised to see you were so strong. I guess I'm lucky Bernkastel didn't bring you for the fifth game, or else I would have been destroyed."

"That's not true. If I had been in the fifth game, I wouldn't have denied your existence. I would have just understood you. If Bernkastel would have tried to force me to kill you, I would have died fighting her. She knew that. That's why she picked the Knox group, who go after those who break their rules no matter what."

"Oho? So are you saying you could kill me if you wanted?" She asked playfully, her trademark smile plastered across her face.

It was just a joke, of course. Will had solved in one game what had taken Battler five games to do. If he went head to head with her, there was a very good chance he would kill her.

**"Van Dine's 20 rules. Rule #3. It is forbidden for the detective to have a love interest,"** Will's red words floated around his hand, dangerously close everyone in the room, "of course, you are not the only one who breaks that rule. I suppose I would be denying my own existence if I were to use it in your game."

"Are you saying you were holding back?"

"Of course. Your game wasn't designed with my rules in mind. I couldn't just kill you for that. It wouldn't be fair. Well, don't worry about the red," said Will, once he realized Battler seemed afraid of his red words. "All it means is that it is an undeniable truth that Van Dine does not agree with detectives having love interests. So long as I don't have authority over a particular district, it's not harmful."

At that moment, Diana began to scratch the door. Everyone knew, some by instinct, some by deduction, what that meant.

"Looks like the mama kitty has arrived," Will said, "hope we have enough milk."

"Milk?" Beatrice blinked, unsure how to absorb that piece of information. "You invited Bernkastel?"

"I thought you had no problem with her anymore."

"_I_ don't have a problem with her," she hesitated. It was hard to tell whether it would be alright to proceed with that subject or not. However, being who she was, she decided to ask anyway.

"Don't_ you_ have a problem with her? I thought she ripped your arm out."

Will slowly took a cigarette from his case and tapped it on the arm of his chair. He didn't actually smoke, but he was in the habit of taping cigarettes against objects to give the impression he was actually considering a question instead of promptly replying, as he had learned from Lion that some people may get rather upset if he doesn't pay attention to them.

"She's just a naughty cat, that's how they play around. Diana is the same, isn't that right?"

Beatrice turned around only to find Diana furiously scratching Battler's face, who bravely attempted to pet her in spite of common sense. The doorbell rang once more, and Lion got up. Bernkastel definitely wasn't someone who should be kept waiting. One quick dash to the door and one overly elaborate bow later, Bernkastel, Erika and Dlanor entered the house.

"It's not a bad house, the location is nice, and it has some style to it," Bernkastel said, her words almost completely devoid of any sarcasm.

"I'm glad you like it?"

"It's to be expected, a detective's house needs to be at least this dignified." Erika, however, showed no attempt at being polite. Lion felt a certain amount of contempt coming from her.

"I apologize, LION. Lady Erika hasn't taken well to the fact that her master has accepted an invitation to another Detective's HOUSE."

Lion laughed the subject off, hoping to calm Erika down with a bit of diplomatic amusement. This had an opposite effect than expected, as Erika interpreted the diplomacy as mockery and rudely threw her coat at the coat hanger. One couldn't help but wonder if she intended to hit Lion but missed due to her senses being numbed by the cold.

"We didn't get to interact much last game," Lion began, "so I hope we get to know each other this time."

"I didn't even see you last game. Why was I invited?"

Bernkastel, having already hung her coat, entered the conversation.

"He read the past games. He probably wants to torture you for being heartless those past few games. He probably wants to fight you to the death."

"I would like to see him try!"

With a haughty turn, she went inside the living room, not waiting for anyone. Bernkastel's face twisted lightly, and Dlanor's showed a frown. The witch's eyes and Lion's met for a second, as if playing a game to see who blinked first. Lion, the diplomatic person, was the first one to yield as a sign of courtesy.

No, that wasn't quite right. Perhaps Lion yielded as a safety measure. Bernkastel could be quite nasty when she wanted to.

"I'm thankful you are holding back on the manipulation," Lion said, bowing once more to Bernkastel.

The witch's face twisted even more, in a rare moment of surprise. Finally, her face turned up an expression of both amusement and fickleness. Lion knew she could change her mind at any moment, but at least for that moment, Bernkastel's words were genuine.

"You better be."

Lion was unsure on how to lead the conversation from there. Perhaps inviting Bernkastel in would be adequate. Perhaps asking Dlanor about her job. It was hard to decide; however the young aristocrat wasn't allowed to choose. Even Bernkastel seemed absolutely surprised as they heard Erika scream.

"Y-YOU!"

They all sprinted to the living room, and found a livid Erika pointing her index finger at the amazing sight of Will, who had dropped both his teacup and jaw to the ground, staring at her with an expression Lion had never seen before. The great detective, so often stoic, now had his eyes opened wide, completely in shock. He had never lost his cool before, at least not that Lion could remember; be it fighting Bernkastel or while holding off the goat army, attempting to annoy him would be the same as striking the moon's reflection in the water. But this time, just this time, he seemed to have been caught completely off guard.

"Furudo...Erika," he completed that sentence with great difficulty, and turned to Bernkastel, who, just like himself, was also uncharacteristically shocked. "Do you mean to tell me you didn't just name your detective that name to toy with me?"

"Huh?"

Bernkastel was legitimately puzzled, much like everyone else in the room. She looked at Erika, who was staring intently at Will, her face livid with anger. Will himself seemed troubled, but not particularly angry. Beatrice seemed just as confused as she was. Dlanor was even more confused, believing herself to be the one who best knew Erika and Will among the guests, and yet not understanding what was happening. Battler kept looking from Erika to Will, attempting to reason things out.

Will hadn't expected to meet Erika. Well, he hadn't expected to meet this Erika. His invitation to Bernkastel, despite what he said, was largely motivated because he wanted to finally see what Erika looked like. He had assumed that she had looked into his past, and named her piece after someone who would affect him as some sort of twisted joke. After all, he had only read the games, he didn't actually watch any of them. Her surprised expression showed she had no idea of what had happened. It was truly just a coincidence. Yet, it was the worst coincidence that could have happened to him.

"Do you two know each other?" Lion asked, voice filled partially with curiosity and partially with hesitation.

"You could say that," Erika responded softly. "Why don't you tell your friend how we know each other?"

It should have been Dlanor. She should have been the one to understand what Erika meant. She was the one Erika had confessed that story to. Yet, she was too late. Feminine intuition, despite being a powerful weapon in understanding subtext, was only the second strongest telepathic device in existence. The strongest telepathic device was one many scholars referred to as the alert.

The alert was a special bond men developed throughout the years in order to help each other to protect themselves from feminine intuition. This allowed men to understand with a mere look that a fellow member of the male species was in the worst possible situation, and had to be helped. A seamless impossible bit of knowledge, obtained through intuition, magic even. The only type of magic neither Battler nor Will would ever deny.

"W-Will, can I see your 20th century film collection?" Battler shouted all of a sudden. "The one you mentioned in the letter!"

Everyone turned to Battler, having no idea what he was taking about. But then, the alert happened, and Will _knew._

"I had no idea you two were pen pals," said Beatrice.

Then, that moment of danger made their bond evolve quicker than one would have expected, resulting in one of the rarest phenomenons in the world, when two guys begin to tell a lie together that is seemingly impossible to have been planned ahead, being therefore completely improvised, despite making perfect sense, convincing any woman that they were in fact telling the truth.

"We have been keeping it a secret, because Battler actually wanted to make a murder mystery game for Beatrice's birthday."

"I asked Will for help with it, and we have been friends since then. Man you ruined the surprise!"

"I apologize, old friend," Will smirked.

"No problem, no problem. The film collection, shall we?"

And with that, they both ran upstairs, away from the raging blue haired girl. Erika turned around, and stomped her feet twice. No one, not even Bern, dared to ask her why she was reacting like that, still shocked. She then got her coat, and walked outside the house, whispering something about getting some fresh air.

"What just happened?" Lion asked, puzzled.

"This is a lively party to be sure," Beatrice answered, her shock evident in that she had accidentally dropped her pipe when Erika screamed, and had yet to pick it up.

"We'll find out soon,"Bern said, walking towards the door to follow Erika. "I'll interrogate her. You three find out what you can as well."

Surprising absolutely no one, Bernkastel seemed interested in gossip. As she left, Lion began to brainstorm reasons why Will would have reacted like that, but came up short. Beatrice couldn't explain Battler's behaviour either. It was Dlanor who finally broke the ice.

"Lion, you asked me for Will's files didn't YOU?"

Lion nodded in surprise. Normally, Dlanor would have long handed the files if not for the fact that Erika's stunt distracted them so much. The files were put on the desk, where all three of them could see. Lion briefly explained the file's natures to Beatrice, and her eyes brightened in excitement.

"Wizard-Hunting Wright..." Lion's voice trailed off after reading the name on the cover of the files.

"That name sends a chill down my spine," Beatrice said.

"Mine TOO," Dlanor acknowledged. "Shall we take a look?"

Lion and Beatrice nodded.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for all the reviews, I'm glad you are enjoying the story and I hope I can continue to entertain you. The murders will take a while to start, since Umineko always liked to show people just having fun before they happened. "Love then, then tear them to pieces" or something that Bern said. But the clues are already popping up, so pay attention if you want to solve the mystery! In any case, see you next chapter!<strong>_


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